LOGIN(Author's POV) Adelina had been home from the hospital for three days when she heard about the returned funds. She was sitting in the sunroom with a cup of chamomile tea when her assistant told her. She set the cup down, folded her hands in her lap, and allowed herself a brief moment of satisfaction. Five hundred million dollars, returned in full. That meant Argenteri had blinked. That meant someone in that family had enough sense to see the situation clearly. But the satisfaction faded quickly, because the underlying problem hadn't changed. Tiziana was still in this house. Still at Stefano's side. Still, as far as Adelina could tell, fully intending to stay there. Adelina thought about the years Tiziana had been married to Arturo. A long marriage, a wealthy one, and not a single child to show for it. The estate had passed to Tiziana almost entirely. Arturo's share of the family assets, his investments, his properties, all of it, gone to a woman who now wanted to move si
(Celeste Moretti's POV) âYouâve been walking,â he said. âIâve been walking in the same direction.â âThatâs a very diplomatic way to describe it.â âYouâve been avoiding me for two weeks,â he said. His voice didnât change. âI think Iâve been fairly patient about it.â I didnât deny it. There wasnât much point. âI needed some space,â I said. âYouâve had it.â He glanced at me sideways. âHave dinner with me.â It wasnât really a question. It had the shape of one, but not the weight. I thought about saying no. I ran through the available excuses, work, tiredness, an early morning, and found that none of them felt convincing enough to say out loud. Not to Vincenzo. He would see straight through every single one. âFine,â I said. He didnât look surprised. He just nodded, and we walked out together. The restaurant was a short drive away, a quiet place, private room, the kind of setting that required advance planning. Heâd booked it ahead of time. Of course he had. The table was alrea
(Authorâs POV) The call came the following morning. Celeste was seated at her desk inside the Aetheris Biotech laboratory, reviewing a stack of printed data reports, when her phone buzzed with Sebastian Argentieriâs number across the screen. âGood news,â he said the moment she answered. âThe Argentieri family returned the funds. All five hundred million. The transfer came through this morning.â She leaned back slowly in her chair. âSo quickly?â âThey moved faster than I expected. Apparently nobody enjoys being on the receiving end of a Sebastian legal filing.â She could hear the amusement in his voice. âDonât thank me too enthusiastically. I earn a percentage if we win. My motives are entirely selfish.â Celeste laughed softly, and some of the tension she had carried since her meeting with Stefan loosened slightly. âEven so,â she said, âthank you.â âNow that weâve finished pretending gratitude matters,â Sebastian continued, âcompletely unrelated subject. A friend ga
(Authorâs POV) Celeste refused to go herself. So Lavinia went instead. She appeared at the entrance of the conference room on the fourteenth floor of Moretti Holdings, clutching her handbag tightly in both hands, her face arranged into something between apology and desperation. Tiziana looked up from the table and immediately felt a flicker of distaste pass through her before she could suppress it. This woman. This housekeeper. She remembered Lavinia from the Moretti estate. A plain, exhausted woman who had spent years raising other peopleâs children, including Tiziana herself until the age of ten. Back then, Tiziana had tolerated her presence the same way one tolerated furniture. The warmth she had shown Lavinia over the past few weeks had been exactly what Celeste suspected it was. A performance. A carefully calculated act designed to unsettle Celeste and remind her that even her own mother could be turned against her. The objective had already been accomplished.
(Authorâs POV) Tiziana had spent three entire days beside Adelinaâs hospital bed, and she had not wasted a single minute of it. She adjusted pillows before Adelina could ask. She brought meals from the restaurant Adelina preferred. She sat patiently through the dragging afternoon hours without complaint, summoning nurses the instant Adelinaâs water glass looked less than half full. She played the role of the devoted, selfless daughter flawlessly, with the ease of someone who had practiced it all her life. Stefano came every day. And he noticed. With each visit, his attitude toward Tiziana softened visibly. The careful restraint he usually maintained around her loosened little by little every time he walked into the room. Tiziana noticed every subtle shift and quietly stored each one away. But Adelina herself remained unmoved. What sat heavily in Adelinaâs chest was the memory of five hundred million dollars. Not five hundred. Not five thousand. Five hundred million. Money
(Celeste Morettiâs POV) He carried me back inside and set me down on the sofa with the same calm efficiency he brought to everything. The fireplace cast warm amber light across the room, flickering softly against the walls. He crouched in front of me until we were eye level. For a long moment, Vincenzo said nothing at all. Then finally, in a low rough voice barely above a murmur, he spoke. âWhen the divorce judgment comes through,â he said quietly, âwill you come with me to the registry office?â I blinked. The warmth from the champagne seemed to disappear instantly. I sat up straighter. âWhat did you just say?â He did not repeat himself. He only held my gaze steadily, completely unshaken, with an expression I had never seen on him before. It was not cold. Not calculated. Just certain. âI have never asked anyone this before,â he said. âAnd after you, I will never ask anyone else.â He paused briefly. âI want you. I need a wife. I want that person to be you.â His grey eyes s







